


Black Coffee

by LionsandTrolls (alfaaz)



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: I'm screaming I don't even know why im doing this, Necromancer!au, This is one of the lesser fics I've written but eh, have a seducing skulduggery because why not, hottie skulduggery, human skulduggery, im sorry, valduggery if you squint, written ages ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfaaz/pseuds/LionsandTrolls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Necromancy AU. One shot. Pre-relationship/friendship Valduggery, I suppose. Or just hinted Valduggery. </p><p> 'Skulduggery has quite sneaky ways of getting what he wants. Right now, he wants coffee. And he will get that coffee.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Written all the way back on 9th April. 1900-something words of Necromancy AU. Maybe I'll continue this and make it a series of AU one shots. I dunno.
> 
> Again, tis a Necromancer!Au. Valduggery, obviously. Since Skulduggery wasn't exactly one of the good guys, and used Necromancy from the start, he isn't a skeleton. 'Cause.. he didn't get married? Mevolent didn't hate him? Well, I do have a list of reasons, if you want one. They're not 'evil', per se but just.. Necromancers. It's mostly cause regular Skul probably wouldn't do this. Well, not *all* the time.

Valkyrie Cain and Skulduggery Pleasant had been partners for years. Years. Bloody years. 

She'd tagged along, when he'd found her during a case. They'd eventually become partners, with him training her in Necromancy and that Wreath guy training her in Elemental. It was a known fact that Skulduggery hated Wreath, as shown by the time he'd thrown him off a bus. Literally. Back to point, yes, they worked together. Bla, bla, blah.

They both were bona-fide, powerful Necromancers, although neither went for the robe thing. Most Necromancers had ditched it these days, in favor of.. well, not much better. If there was one thing most Necromancers didn't have, it was a working fashion sense. One of the few who did, they worked for the Main Temple, their version of Sanctuaries. Same thing, except for the name change. The Sanctuaries had simply crumbled, to put it nicely, and Necromancers had decided to redecorate and change a hella lot of things and eventually declare themselves as the Irish Sanctuary. However, somebody's genius idea had been to name the Ireland ex-Sanctuary the Main Temple.

Which was a pretty friggin bad name.

Dear lord Zeus, was it a stupid name. But it paid, at least. And the people, their bosses, technically, were also very stupid. With stupid names as well. But now that two of his best mates were on the three Boss Seats, life had been so much better. They were still working on changing the name, though. Without much luck. Anyway. He didn't like thinking about it. Life was, although, reasonably fun for the two.. assassins? Nah, that was too exaggerated. Enforcers? No, that wasn't what they did. They did, however, investigate any killings of their side, or terrified others who wouldn't listen to them into doing so. They were Detectives, of sorts. Yes. That's what they were.

...that was their job description, actually. The tall, handsome man in the dark, dark navy suit with the lovely cobalt blue shirt wondered why he'd been wondering about his job. He knew what his job was. See, this was what no coffee did to a person. First time he'd gone to sleep in two days, and he gets called up at four am. Four. Friggin. A. M. That needed to be outlawed. Now; it was almost ten, the guy he'd been woken up for had been 'taken care of'. Translation: Thrown through a second storey window because Skulduggery was cranky. Now, nearly four or five hours later, he still hadn't gotten his damn coffee.

Where the hell was she? How long did it take to get coffee? He tapped out a frustrated rhythm on the bonnet of his very beautiful, very expensive and very delicate Bentley. Despite his annoyance, he wasn't going to exact his rage on his car, not matter how drunk, pissed off or frustrated he was. The car was off limits. Such a pretty black color. Shiny, too. He liked black. It was a nice, dark color. Black.

Why the hell was he thinking about colours for? Oh, right. He hadn't gotten his coffee. Which his lackey —no, assistant, —no, 'battle accessory'— had gone to get. Well, she'd said she'd gone to get a coffee for herself, but he didn't doubt that she knew he'd swipe her's. As per usual. Which meant she'd be bringing two.

And she had gone something like thirty minutes ago. Thirty. Damned. Minutes.

He let out a groan of annoyance, and stalked back up the street, where she'd gone to that one coffee shop which had the amazing coffee. He wanted that coffee. Preferably now. If not, then in two minutes. Maximum. He barged in through the door, the little bell twinkling. Gods, he hated that bell. However, the coffee allowed him to forgive that. Aha, there she was. Chatting up some reasonably not bad looking probable-twenty year old. He reckoned the guy would have a priceless reaction when he would find out that the cute girl he was flirting with was actually seventy-something years old.

He calmly walked up to her, increasing his pace and putting on a worried expression. Oh, sweet revenge for making him wait. "Sister! There you are! You weren't supposed to go out of the nurse's sight! The doctor was so worried!" She stared at him, confused. "What?"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. She, as he predicted, tried to move away. "Uh.. Skul? Are you okay-" he pulled her into his chest to muffle her words. He shook his head as the brunette guy she'd been talking to stared at them. "Terribly sorry, mister. Did my sister bother you? She's always running away from her nurses, this one. Oh, didn't I mention? She's kooky." He pulled a hand away and twirled the finger at his head in a 'crazy' gesture. "Completely off her rocker. Thinks that she's a magic butterfly at times. Has.. episodes."

The guy's face moved from confused to worried to relieved. It was amusing to watch, really. "Oh. Oh. I-I didn't realise. She seemed okay." Valkyrie, hearing everything, let out an angry muffled yell at him. The guy nodded in understanding, and slowly backed away.

He pulled away, and she shoved him and glared at him soon as she was able.

"What the hell was that for? Can't I flirt with a hot guy?"

He nodded. "Of course you can. As long as you bring me my coffee first and not make me wait. Or if he's Satan. But that one's up to you." He frowned. "Speaking of, are you going to tell me why you took so long to get coffee?"

She crossed her arms. "They had an accident with the steamer or something. They're fixing it now."

Oh. So that was why. "Fine. Just get the coffee and then come back to the car. I'm getting really, really bored."

She scowled at his retreating back. Damn him. Damn him for being such a general asshole. Damn him for being him. Damn him for being so damn good looking. She knew he'd swipe her coffee. Like always. So she'd started getting two lately, because she knew him and his habits. But she wasn't going to get him a coffee this time, no siree. She was going to get what he always got, and she was going to drink it in front of his face. Humph. Haha, Detective-Necromancer Man. Strike one for the lady.

Just then, there was a shout from the counter. The steamer hadn't been fixed, so sorry for the inconvenience, but iced coffees and plain coffees were available. She stalked up, got a black. Iced. The guy looked extremely weirded out at her request, but complied. She paid him, got out of the shop.

She stalked up to the Bentley, sipping the coffee and trying not to gag. It was black, his favourite. No sugar, no cream, just really bitter black coffee. For whatever reason, he loved it. Maybe it matched his soul. It did provide a nice caffeine hit, though. That was good when it was hot, but the fact that it this one was iced made it perfect for retching.

He was leaning against the car. "Finally. It's been half an hour." She ignored that. He didn't falter. "What coffee did you get?" It sounded like a casual question, but she knew it was so he could decide whether it was worth the effort or not.

"Black." She said confidently. And without showing how attractive she found the sudden look of determination on his face. "Just as black as your soul. Pity it's for me. You never said you wanted one, so I didn't get one." His eyes narrowed. "That point was already established."

"Was it? How rude of me."

He wanted that coffee. It was black. Black coffee was good. He'd actually go for any type of coffee right now, even those retchingly sweet Alaskas at Dunkin's. Wait, no. Maybe not those. Probably not those. Right, back to point. Coffee in her hand. She kept her breathing normal, even as he crossed the space between them in a single stride. He was close enough that, if she'd been taller, the brim of his hat would be poking into her forehead. As it was, it was above her. He paused, momentarily distracted, put a hand on a car door, swiping away a bit of dust. He then continued, leaning closer, down to her ear. "Please?" She tried her best not to shiver at the purr of the velvety voice. And ignored the shiver it sent down her back.

"No. It's mine."

He looked into her eyes, leaning down, and she almost blushed. Almost. 

"Pretty please."

"Y-No. This coffee?" She pulled it up, showed it to him. "Black as your soul. And see?" She took a long drink from it, not succumbing to the urge to gag. "I'm drinking it. In front of you. And you're not."

He then, being the arsehole that he was, decided to play dirty. He suddenly pulled her into him, in what would look like a hug to any passerby. Arms looped around her lower back. "I want that coffee, Valkyrie." His voice dangerously low. Eyes starkly boring into her own.

"Sure." She handed it to him before she even realised what she was doing. He immediately stepped away, turned, walked back to his side. She stood where she was, slightly dazed. On the way, he took a sip and immediately spit it out. He turned, gave her a death glare that would made anybody else quake in fear. "It's as *cold* as my soul too. Where did you get this from, friggin' Antarctica?"

She smirked. "I got it for me. I like cold coffee."

"Then why were you trying not to gag each time you took a sip?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I had no intention of giving the cup to you anyway."

"Really?" That infuriating smirk again. "You gave it to me really easily when I.. asked."

He threw the cup away —wow, talk about being a dick to the environment— and got in. She glared at him, scowling. "I hate you." He smirked. "Don't worry about it. I'm practically irresistible." She sent one of her shadows to skewer his face. His showed up out of nowhere, batted her's away with ease. "Now get in."

She got in, feeling a sense of repeated Déjà Vu. A sudden realisation struck her. This happened every time he wanted something. And he always got it. He seduced it out of her. Every. Damned. Time. He'd been playing her for years. The bastard.

"What?"

She turned to him, still glaring. "What do you mean, what?"

"You have that look on your face."

She frowned. "What look?"

"The one where you figure out some secret of the universe that everybody else already knew."

She raised an accusing finger at him. "You-you've been seducing me into doing your work!"

He nodded. "You realise this now? I've been doing it for years. I mean, I wondered why you hadn't caught on yet, but I'm not going to complain. I just assumed your intellect wasn't the level I'd thought it was. Which, admittedly, wasn't that high."

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish. "You bastard."

He shrugged. "That's not what you said when you were doing all the filing for eight cases. Last month, if I recall."

She turned to look out the window.

"I hate you."

"I know. I love me too."

"Dick."


End file.
